Virtual Mirror
by SakuraMinamino
Summary: A boy from Iowa always dreamed about being a Starship captain. Only problem is, there is no such thing as starships. His only relief is a game that allows him to live out his dream. When the server shuts down, the game becomes real. He is no longer a player, but a captain, governing life and death of his crew. Will he choose to go home, or stay in what he isn't sure is real.
1. Prologue

**Before you all freak out, Game Over is not abandoned. I just ... forgot where I was going with it and have writer's block. Yes, this premise is based off of the Anime/Manga/Light Novel Overlord and the prologue will start out like Overlord does; however, Jim will not be all powerful, he will not make calm and constantly rational decisions, and he will act human. This is pretty much a, "I'm bored and I can't think of an amazing storyline like my previous stories fanfic". Hopefully, this will not be too close to Plugged In. Fun fact, the game is based on my experience with Star Trek online, Star Trek the video game (voiceovers by Pine and Quinto), and Star Trek Virtual Reality.**

 **In other news, I am writing an original story called, Blood of the Immortal. I would appreciate it if some of my long term followers would check it out and give me some feedback. It is a paranormal story with vampires, but there are other creatures as well including: ghouls, demons, Jack the ripper, Faust, ghosts, and powers. It's up on ficfun . com. I do ask for people to read at least 3 chapters because things that seem slightly off in the first chapter are foreshadowing for later and people seem to think its poor writing rather than intentional.**

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 _Space, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship…._

To a small boy from Iowa, space always seemed to be that unreachable, mysterious void just beyond his fingertips. Always just out of reach, no matter how hard jumped, no matter how high he flew. The wonders that lay just beyond the atmosphere was never meant to be his.

As a child, he would sit in front of the TV watching adventures of a captain and his alien crew traversing the galaxy, solving problems and fighting aliens. It made him want to grow up to be just like them, a suave space captain fighting for what was right and fostering galactic peace. Only problem was, starships didn't exist. Space shuttles and the ISS were the closest to that reality as he could get. So obviously, the next logical step was to aim for astronaut.

But even that soon became out of reach. Even without his asthma, baring him from being a candidate to begin with, the government spending on the space programs dwindled to almost nothing, constantly delaying experiments and shuttle departures. The Mars mission that was scheduled for 2020 was pushed back a decade, and talks about pushing it back further were already starting as the deadline approached. It was becoming impossible to break free and touch the stars even from afar.

The closest he could get was sitting at a desk working the numbers for NASA. Sure, it was a respectable job. If he told anyone about it, he'd be praised, maybe even envied, but it wasn't what he wanted. It wasn't going on an adventure. It wasn't commanding his own team to figure out problems that could prevent intergalactic wars. It wasn't being needed.

With a mindset like his, it was easy to fall into a rut, trying to achieve a dream that wouldn't even scratch his deepest desires. However, there was something that filled the void in his life.

During his last year of college, during the rise of virtual reality, a game simulating that old TV show he watched as a child came out. The graphics were subpar and the voice acting wasn't perfect, but it brought the world he had fallen in love with to life.

Every day he would log in, build and design his starship, go on missions, type up pretend logs, and personalize his crew, fine tuning each and every one of them with complex backstories and stats. He must have spent hours upon hours typing them up and balancing out skills on his bridge, not including the hours spent gathering materials to upgrade his ship and systems before going off to battle.

He was addicted. Spending real world money to gain the new upgrades, and boosters, and anything else he could get his hands on.

Five years he had spent on that game, coming home from work only to immediately log in to play. Five years of giving up a real social life to be surrounded by other fans of the show and genre. But life hated him. Due to the lack of popularity, the game was shutting down, and tonight would be the last day. The server would power down at midnight.

"─irk…. Captain Kirk?"

"Hm?" Captain Kirk sat up straighter in his chair, having drifted off in his thoughts. "Sorry, Bones. It's been a long day."

"And yet here you are instead of sleeping," the man gently scolded. "It's the last day. Why don't you sleep?" Well, Kirk imagined that his friend's tone was gentle. It was hard to read tone in text after all. Given how often his online friend worried about his health, Kirk could only see it as a compassionate voice on the other end. Today, the idea that his friend was speaking to him in such a placating annoyed him.

Kirk thinned his lips in defiance, though the game would not show it. Of course, he would be here. A captain would go down with the ship and crew. "I just wanted to go down with them, you know? It feels…right."

"You are probably the only one left in the fleet who feels that way. I think every other player has already logged out."

"Probably," Kirk agreed with a heavy heart.

There was a heavy silence between them. He had thought perhaps Bones had left when a notification popped up on his screen. ' _Transfer request: Leonard McCoy_.'

"Bones?"

"I thought you might like him. He was always one of my favorite NPCs. I think he'd prefer having you as his captain for his last few minutes."

Realization of what Bones was saying sank in. He wasn't going to stay until the end with him. Resentment towards his friend filled his chest though he remanded silent about it aloud. Without hesitation, he pressed accept. Seconds later, another notification popped up. _'Transporter activated. Leonard McCoy has been transferred.'_

"I have work in the morning, so I should be logging off. Good luck with everything Captain Kirk."

"Have a good life, Bones." The video screen that had shown a picture of Bones' avatar during the conversation closed out.

Bones had been the very last one who still actively played in the fleet Jim had created. Well Kirk called it a fleet, but in reality, it was something akin to a guild where players could form small groups, trade, and organize large party events. It was unoriginal, but Kirk had been proud of its name. Starfleet.

Bones was one of 30 players that Kirk had gotten to know over the past five years, and as each player left for one reason or another, they all left Kirk with a little something. It was nice to know that their time together meant something for each of the members. Bones' gift was one of five he had received this week as each member made their final farewells. But gifts didn't fill the empty table in the ready room.

Perhaps he had spent too much time playing a game. Even now, he could feel his hand pressing the buttons of a controller and hear the background of his apartment's air conditioner. No amount of disdain he held for the real word would make it vanish entirely.

Standing from his seat, he pulled up his players menu, checking the time. He had about an hour left until this part of his life ended.

Feeling a heavy sigh coming on, he left the ready room, wanting to spend the rest of his time on the bridge. It would be the last time he would see it after all. Just outside the door was the new addition to his crew, Leonard McCoy was on standby, ready to be given orders. Leonard McCoy was of human class. His dark brown hair was trimmed short and his blue eyes were an electrifying blue like his. There was nothing remarkable about him that stood out about the character other than the medical scrubs that he wore. A generic design, something his friend Bones would definitely make. Bones had always lacked in creativity. Kirk was even willing to bet that McCoy was a replica of Bones himself, not that he would ever find out now.

Also waiting for him outside the automatic door was a Vulcan, a rare race in the game. The only way to obtain a Vulcan class character was during a game event during Christmas Eve. Kirk, being as unlucky as he was, missed the event due to working overtime. This particular Vulcan was a parting gift as well, given to him the day before by player Admiral Pike left the game permanently too.

The Vulcan's name was Spock. He was tall, lean, with straight black hair in the shape of a bowl cut. Kirk wondered why Admiral Pike would design him with such a bad haircut, but it did look nice on the NPC. It made him appear a tiny bit younger.

Unlike the McCoy NPC, Spock wore the science uniform, a blue shirt instead of the command gold that Kirk wore. It complimented the hint of green in Spock's skin tone.

Of course, both NPCs had a blank stare and awkwardly stiff facial expressions.

"Follow," he commanded.

"Yes, Captain," the automatic response from both NPCs responded. Their voices were chosen out of the database. While you could change the pitch, the differences in customized NPCs were limited. They were voices he had heard before.

Walking down the corridors of the ship he had spent years designing and perfecting, he observed the crew, standing at their posts having pre-scripted conversations and observations. Some of those conversations he had scripted out himself.

As he neared the NPCs, they would halt their conversation enough to say, "Good evening, Captain," and give a quick salute until he started to walk away to continue or restart the conversation.

There had always been a surge of happiness he felt when he was addressed like that. In that small instant, he was living out the dreams he could never achieve in the real world. As pathetic as that sounded, he wanted to live that way until the very last moment.

Entering the bridge, the crew was at their post. A Russian voice, young and energetic, announced his presence. The NPCs didn't move from there posts, doing the jobs Kirk had assigned them. It was things like that that ruined the illusion. If it was real, everyone would have stopped to salute him.

Sighing, he went to the captain's chair situated in the center of the bridge. This is where he wanted to be when everything went black. Still there was some time before the game officially shut down. With nothing else better to do, he pulled up he pulled up the specs for his new transfers.

The information for the NPC Leonard McCoy popped up over his screen in the form of a holo screen, slightly transparent where Kirk could see behind the menu, but clear enough to be read without difficulty. Everything about the NPC was visible to Kirk, from his work history to how long it took him to be promoted at each level. Bones had positioned Leonard McCoy to be the Chief Medical Officer of his ship.

From his specifications, Bones had obviously spent a lot of time and money on creating McCoy. His knowledge on xenobiology, chemistry, biology, and medicine were maxed out. He was solely made to be a medical officer and a good one at that. He even had a couple boosts that increased the chance of crew survival during an attack. McCoy's background also well thought out, citing why he decided to join Starfleet and what his personality was like. There was an interesting note that he disliked space and was wary of technology which was odd, but it reminded Jim of Bones in a way. Bones came off as a type to be reluctant to try new things.

Since Leonard McCoy was better suited as a CMO than the one Kirk had created, he set Leonard McCoy as the CMO for his ship even though the change would no longer matter.

Next, he opened Spock's profile. As a Vulcan, he already had skewed traits. He was pretty much maxed out level wise for all the sciences and his physical traits were maxed out as well. His backstory was much longer than McCoy. 12 pages worth. Pressured for time, he just scrolled to the end, reading only the last paragraph. He seemed like a boring old Vulcan. Very textbook.

Growing mischievous and part revengeful, Kirk edited the bio, just adding one line. "Secretly likes to question his orders." A rebellious Vulcan. That put a smile on Kirk's face. What would that be like? Granted, writing the biographies of characters didn't change the personalities of them. It was just for the creator's amusement, but almost everyone who had been part of Starfleet, had done it for their favorite customized NPCs. Everyone had spent money to make each one as special as they could, even going so far to install mods or resort to hacking.

On a whim, he made Spock his First Officer and Chief Science Officer. He had a vacancy in his science department after a difficult mission that cost him his Science Officer and he had deleted his previous second in command, Gary Mitchell. The character Gary Mitchell had been based on his secret crush at work. That was until he found out the guy was a complete douche bag. Pissed off, he deleted the character.

By the time he had finished, it was only a few minutes to midnight.

He had work in the morning. He had to get up at four to finish his report on the collapsing neutron star observed in the Andromeda galaxy. Not that it mattered when it happened 2.5 million years ago by the time it reached human eyes. Maybe if he had motivation to view it from afar, he would care more about his work performance.

11:59:01 …

What would he do now that the game was ending? As far as he knew, there were no plans for a sequel. Not that it was a surprise since this game hadn't sold well, and there was no way in hell he ever planned on dating.

11:59:30…

He didn't have many friends at work either. His coworkers enjoyed the work they did and could sense his lack of enthusiasm for the subject matter, too busy daydreaming about being one of the people he worked to send up there instead. Should he try to start socializing? Did he even want to?

11:59:51 … 11:59:52… 11:59:53…

He closed his eyes. Maybe he should quit and create his own game. Something like this but better.

11:59:55… 11:59:56… 11:59:57…

Wouldn't that be nice.

11:59:58… 11:59:59…

….

….

0:00:01... 0:00:02…

Kirk opened his eyes. The sounds of the ship were still humming. The instruments were still beeping. However, he could also feel the small vibrations from the ship underneath him, smell the recycled air. He didn't feel the remote in his hands or the headset on his head, and the graphics had become as sharp as if he was in real real life.

"Captain Kirk?"

A voice he didn't quite recognize called out to him. Slowly, Kirk turned to the person who had called him.

Spock took two steps forward away from the science station that had been assigned to him. That couldn't be. That wasn't possible. "You appear to be bracing for impact. Is something amiss?"

 _Captain's log, stardate 2258.49. Captain James T. Kirk became the official captain of the USS Enterprise._

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 **I know. I know. The prologue is written different from my normal writing style, but it will go back to normal starting next chapter. I was really tempted to write the prologue in first person. It was a struggle not do that so it ended up feeling like an observation from afar rather than being close to the protagonist. Please comment and tell me what you think. I'm hoping no other fanfic in the Star Trek fandom has done something like this. If it has been done, well I may take it down. I pride myself on my unique fanfic concepts. Also if anyone can think of tags, let me know. I have no idea what tags I should use.**

 **I don't expect this fanfiction to be popular, but please leave a comment if you enjoy it even a little.**


	2. Is This the Real Life? Or Just Fantasy?

**I know its short, but I'm having writers block. I've had this part written for months, so I thought I might as well publish it to give you guys something. Yeah, I'll eventually change the chapter tittle, but it was all I can think of.**

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This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening!

Jim's mind was reeling with what was happening. The urge to feel his head for the virtual reality helmet made his hands itch, highlighting the fact he could no longer feel his controller. What was going on?

"Captain, if you are unwell, perhaps it would be wise to call Doctor McCoy to the bridge."

Jim's mouth opened and closed uselessly like a gaping fish, looking around the bridge. All eyes were on him.

McCoy? That was right, the new CMO he appointed had that name. How did this NPC know that?

At Jim's lack of response, Spock's eyebrow furrowed just a bit. "Lieutenant Uhura, call Dr. McCoy to the bridge."

"No!" Jim's sudden outburst had everyone looking a tad concerned. Clearing his throat, he tried to remain as composed as possible as he explained himself. "No, I'm fine. I was just in the middle of thinking about our next mission," he lied. Unconsciously, he stood straighter trying to exert the image of a captain. "However, I do need to attend to some business. Spock, take the conn."

"I would prefer if you would address me as Commander or Mr. Spock, Captain."

Jim blinked. That was a bit rude, or maybe it was just the way it was delivered, emotionless yet somehow carrying a bit of annoyance.

"Sure, Commander. You have the bridge." He had the urge to just run to the turbo lift. For all sakes and purposes, he was glad he didn't. Once leaving the bridge, the hallways, was crowded with officers attending their duties, checking panels, using the turbo lift, and engaging in small talk. It would have been embarrassing to have a captain running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

Every member who wasn't busy stopped to salute, some greeted him, others looked nervous around him. Jim gave nods of approval, muttering a few "at ease" to others, mimicking what he thought a captain would. Somehow, beyond all reasonable doubt he made it to his quarters without getting lost or losing it. The moment the door closed behind him. He was on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

"What the hell is going on?" He muttered, pacing back and forth. How could a game suddenly become real?

Just to make sure, he placed his hands on his head, and sure enough, his headset was no longer there. He was looking through his own eyes, not through a screen. What was he going to do? It went past being stuck in the game. The NPCs were moving around and having normal interactions like real people. How was this even possible?

Panic spread through his body as his paced faster and faster, trying to wrap his mind around it.

Then he stopped.

Should he really be looking at this so negatively? Isn't this what he always wanted? This is probably a dream anyway. He probably fell asleep with his headset on again. Even if that wasn't the case, wasn't he just complaining about the life he would have to live in the real world right before this happened? He should be elated to have the opportunity to live through the life he always wanted.

But it also wasn't his nature to not look a gift horse in the mouth. That's how you got burned. There was always a catch.

Breathing in and exhaling sharply out, he explored his quarters. It looked how he designed it. The medals he had earned were in a frame on the wall, his closet contained the different uniforms he had earned and designed. The PADD that was always available to look at was on his desk though this time, he could move it away from its original position, and there seemed to be a hidden compartment where all the guns he had chosen to keep in his inventory had been transferred to.

So he still had access to his inventory in a weird way. It was all there, just in a more believable way.

Kirk stood, processing what he should do now, catching sight of himself in the mirror. He looked like his real-world self. Slightly flabby from working at a desk job and a thick pair of glasses. Well that didn't look captainly. He looked like someone who worked at NASA. Well not anymore. This game, dream, whatever this was, was his new chance.

Feeling a bit better having his gear, he didn't feel so ill-prepared. He could do this. Until he could figure out something, he would fake the part. It couldn't be too hard right? He was a rocket scientist for crying out loud.

He took off his glasses to look at them. There didn't seem anything special about them. They seemed quite similar to the ones he wore in the real world. Thin gold frames, nothing too dorky or cool. Something average people with an average job would wear.

"Captain?"

The sound of Spock's voice and the door opening startled Jim, breaking the fragile object in his hand with a soft, _crack_. Jim's eyes widened as he divided his attention between Spock and the broken object, gaping. "Haven't you heard of knocking?!" He finally said.

"Excuse my intrusion Captain, but I had been knocking the past 1.3 minutes. As the computer pinpointed your location to this room, I knew you were present. Given your off behavior on the bridge, I hypothesized you may be encountering health problems and entered the override." Spock looked down curiously at the glasses. "It was unexpected to discover that you wear glasses. Most choose to undergo corrective surgery over corrective lenses."

"Still waiting to hear an apology, Commander."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I do not understand. For what purpose would an apology serve when I have already explained the reason for my intrusion?"

Kirk had a biting remark at the ready, but refrained, grinding his teeth instead. Were all Vulcans this pretentious? "Call it common courtesy."

Spock blinked. "Very well. I apologize."

With his monotone voice, it didn't sound an ounce sincere. Which only served to further aggravate Jim. "Is there a reason why you are off the bridge, Commander?"

"As we are conducting standard star charting until our next orders arrive, I wished to speak with you. As a new member aboard the Enterprise, I wish to clarify my duties and what you expect of me in the capacity as your first officer."

Star charting? Was that what the crew did when he was away from the game? "That's something that could be discussed after shift, isn't it?"

"I logically deduced that it would be more beneficial to establish it now so that I can perform my duties to optimal capacity. A brief summary would suffice."

"Of course it is," he muttered, doing everything he can to not rub a hand through his hair in frustration. Was it too much to ask for a little peace and quiet so he could figure out a life changing circumstance. What would a good captain say? "I appreciate your commitment to the job, Commander, but I have my hands full with Starfleet at the moment. I guarantee you that I'll answer all your questions about your position after shift. Is that acceptable?"

Spock blinked again, and Jim wondered if there was something wrong with his programming that somehow translated into reality. To be honest, he hadn't read up on Vulcans. Sure, they were referenced a handful of times, but they were rare in game. So rare in fact, Kirk had never met one until now.

"As you are captain, my opinion on when you wish to conduct business with me is irrelevant," was Spock's eventual response.

Kirk felt his eye twitch. "I'll see you after shift, Commander. You are dismissed."

"Sir."

It was a relief when Spock left. Spock was going to be the one pushing his buttons often, he could already tell. Granted, that might have been his fault, recalling his change to Spock's bio before the server shutdown. Yeah, he probably deserved this.

Picking up the PADD, still marveling that it was now real, Jim thought about his glasses. Well he needed to see if medbay was actually functioning or just for show eventually. This was as good a time as any. Checking the ship's map, he double checked the route to medbay, and sure enough it was still in the same spot. He could walk there confidently without looking completely lost.

This time he took the chance to look through his ship, noting the new details and memorizing the faces of the crew members. As some members saluted him and said good morning captain, this time around, he gave a small smile and nodded encouragingly. He was still stiff and awkward but this time he felt giddiness. This was really happening. He was a real captain of a star ship. He almost couldn't keep that childlike grin off his face. He managed to do so, but he was jumping around on the inside.

He gave a suave smile to a group of ensigns just as he entered sickbay. The smell of a hospital hit his nose. The medbay was also slightly bigger than he remembered. Every time he died in game on a planet-based mission, he would wake up here, which wasn't often as he gained more experience. No one was there minus a few staff members. No surprise since it had been a while since he had gone on a mission.

The character, Dr. McCoy, was hunched over a microscope, jotting something down on his PADD. It was amazing seeing what was once an NPC, who would normally stand around medbay or pretend to talk to a patient actually working. It was a marvel. So much so, Jim just stood at the entrance staring.

The doctor suddenly stopped moving, swirling around in his chair. His storm gray eyes were narrowed, and he held a scowl on his lips. "There you are. I've been waiting for you to get your ass down here for your physical."

"Wha—" The rude address took him by surprise.

His hesitation must have been some sort of weakness. The doctor traversed the medbay still ranting as he approached. "I've been waiting four days for you to come down here, and here you are sauntering in after making me wait. I can't believe I was transferred to a snot nosed kid."

Still trying to adjust to the aggressive doctor, he barely had time to put together that McCoy had arrived on his ship 4 days ago before he was jabbed with a hypo to the neck. "What the hell?"

"Don't be a baby. Do you have any idea what type of diseases and viruses are floating around on this metal tin can? You are so behind on your vaccines, it makes me wonder what the hell your last CMO was doing."

Through all the yelling, Jim couldn't respond. Something about all this was familiar, making it easy for the doctor to pull Jim along with his pace, unable to fight back. He just couldn't put his finger on why.

"Get on the bed and take off your shirt," he growled.

As Jim moved to listen to the doctor's orders it finally hit him. "Bones?" he said under his breath.

"Hm?" The doctor looked up from his PADD briefly. "What bones?"

The tone was different than he imagined, but the words definitely reminded Jim of his friend Bones, the player who had given Dr. McCoy to him. "Nothing. Nothing." He did as he was told, taking off his glasses. He paused then put his glasses back on. When he did so, he noticed that his vision was blurry.

"You wear glasses? I didn't notice anything in your records," the doctor kept murmuring to himself, scanning over the documents.

"Uh, no. It's just a relic I received as a gift. I must have forgotten they were on." He took them off. His vision was fixed. Just a second ago he needed his glasses. Was it because his profile said he didn't wear them, so the program corrected itself or was this really a dream? What else changed about him?

After McCoy did his physical, he was able to find out. Other than being a little overweight and his cardio lacking, his asthma was gone as well as his allergy to seafood. However, in return he seemed to have developed allergies to certain medications. A worthy trade if anyone asked him. Now that his asthma was no longer a problem, he could work out without worrying about an inhaler. It felt like a whole world of possibilities had opened up to him. In the back of his mind, concern tingled about this new development, but he shoved it aside, for now. He didn't want to dwell too much on it.

"Well we may need to put you on a diet and exercise regimen to meet regulation weight, but I suppose you pass," he grumbled.

"Why do you sound so disappointed about that," Jim laughed, putting on his shirt.

"I wouldn't be so happy if I were you." McCoy jammed a PADD into his chest. "I expect you to follow this to the letter. I ain't no babysitter, so I expect you to do your part."

Jim started to grin at the double negative. "My babysitter huh. I think I'm going to look forward in seeing you around, Bones."

The doctor frowned at the nickname, but Jim waved it off like it was no big deal. "Let me know if you need anything," Jim said as he put on his shirt.

"You could fix those damn replicators. Man can't get a decent country meal with the gravy tasting like flavored cardboard."

Jim laughed. "I'll see what I can do." Patting the doctor on his back, he hopped off the examination table. "Well I got captaining to do, so I'll see you later."

"Who said you could leave," the doctor grabbed his shirt before he could escape. "You have 10 other vaccinations you need to get. I can only give them three of them at a time before waiting an hour to give you the next batch."

Jim cringed. "Well, you know, I have things I need to do, being captain and all." Jim tried to scoot towards the door as casually as possible.

"Yeah, it's the middle of your shift yet you're busy down here goofing off."

Jim paled at being caught, and the doctor gave him an all-knowing look. Spock must have ratted him out, that bastard. "Get back on the table kid. You got four hours until the end of your shift. Just enough time to catch you up on your vaccinations."

Jim forced a smile, getting back on the table as the doctor roughly jabbed another hypo into his neck. He'd get Spock back for this. Just he wait.


End file.
